


just give me a try

by micksgotkicks



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s03e12 The Fillorian Candidate, Fluff, M/M, canon complaint up til about the end of s3, monster? what monster??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micksgotkicks/pseuds/micksgotkicks
Summary: The quest is almost over and Margo's about to be crowned High King of Fillory. Eliot's getting ready for the coronation when he receives an unexpected visitor.





	just give me a try

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [give me a try](https://open.spotify.com/track/0gohFCf3LlExQw41BfajZg?si=ox-WZhrRSe-IhIvVorBArg) by the wombats.
> 
> this is just some self-indulgent fluff because tbh we all need it rn. not super edited because i wrote this out in one go and knew if i didn't post it now i never would.

Eliot looked tired.

He ran his fingers through his hair, taking in his figure in the floor length mirror. It had felt like they’d been going nonstop for ages, whether it was running from cannibals to going over the edge of a waterfall in a sentient boat. If the bags under his eyes were any indication, this quest and all the little side adventures were starting to take their toll.

As Eliot took in his reflection, he realized how strange he looked with no crown decorating his head. He’d grown so accustomed to it throughout his stint as High King that it was abnormal not to have it.

“At least I don’t have to match my outfits to it anymore,” he mused under his breath.

Multiple burdens had been lifted from his shoulders yesterday. The fairies were gone, no longer puppeteering them around like figureheads, and they weren’t about to be thrown out a window by the Fillorians which was an incredible improvement. Julia of all people had sent word that they officially got all the keys and magic would soon be returned. It was as if everything was falling into place, for once in their pathetic, grad student lives.

 _Not everything_ , a darker voice whispered from the back of his mind. 

Eliot pushed it aside and straightened his jacket; Margo had made him one of the members of her Cabinet, so he still had to look his best for her coronation. Although it would take a little getting used to, Eliot knew Margo was the High King that Fillory needed, that it deserved.

As much as he wanted to feel jealous, he couldn’t. Not with his best friend on a throne that suited her so damn well.

A knock at his door dragged Eliot from his thoughts. 

He opened it to reveal the last person he expected, Quentin fucking Coldwater.

“El.” Quentin was grinning at him, slightly out of breath. Eliot’s heart leaped in his chest traitorously. 

Quentin was dressed to the Fillorian nines, so to speak. He wore a deep blue jacket edged with gold, made from a fabric with soft, swirled patterns that reflected when the light hit the garment. His hair looked recently washed with sections on either side of his face intricately braided and half tied up in the back. 

He looked stunning, even more so than usual.

Eliot realized he’d been staring and quickly pulled Quentin in for a hug. It came so naturally, fitting together like they were pieces from the same puzzle. 

Quentin laughed quietly. “I missed you too.”

Eliot pulled back, hands still gripping Quentin’s forearms as if he’d disappear as soon as he let go.

“How’d you—I didn’t—Julia said you guys wouldn’t be able to come.” 

Quentin looked away sheepishly, that rare smile still gracing his lips. “I thought I’d surprise you...you and Margo.”

Right. Margo. This was Margo’s coronation. Eliot dropped his hands.

“What about the quest?”

Quentin blinked up at him. “What?”

“The quest? Our big, all-encompassing adventure for the literal keys to save magic?” Eliot tried not to sound patronizing, but he couldn’t help it. At least on Q it was kind of endearing.

“Oh, that, I mean, I’m sure Julia told you everything with the keys and how we’ll go to Blackspire and turn on the Wellspring with them. Apparently there used to be some monster there? But it’s completely empty now.”

Eliot shot him a smug grin. “I can't believe you of all people _forgot_ about the quest.”

“I didn't forget, I just—“ Quentin looked him up and down, pausing when their eyes met before quickly glancing away. “Like I said, I missed you.”

Eliot forced out a stilted laugh. “Well, I am the life of the party.”

A silence fell over them, toeing the line between comfortable and awkward until Quentin finally spoke up, voicing one of the two incredibly large elephants in the room. “How are you holding up?”

“With being such a terrible monarch I was deposed and then outvoted by someone that wasn’t even on the ballot?” Eliot forced out a sigh. “Not as bad as I probably should be.”

Quentin frowned. “You weren’t a terrible king.”

“Don’t.” Eliot shook his head. “I was a pretty awful king. I didn’t even want to be king, not at first. And when I finally did it was...too late.”

“Because Fillory’s your home,” Quentin finished for him.

Eliot laughed bitterly, because if he’d heard that a year ago he would’ve balked at Quentin and asked what he was on. But a year ago he hadn’t spent an entire lifetime here, raised a kid, fallen in love.

“Fillory’s my home.” Eliot repeated it, not quite a mantra that he was used to yet. “And I don’t care if I’m a king or an advisor or any kind of royalty as long as...as long as it’s in good hands, I’m okay.”

“And who has better hands than Margo?”

Eliot chuckled. “She used to do jewelry ads her hands were so sought after.”

They both laughed and it made Eliot’s heart feel heavy in his chest. He could have had this every day, this easiness and comfortable companionship with the person who meant the world to him, still means the world to him. _Could have,_ if he hadn’t fucked it up like he always did.

Eliot told himself Quentin was too good for him, that he'd be happy with someone like Alice or Arielle. But the look Quentin had given him when he’d been rejected had left a gaping hole in Eliot's chest. He’d shoved the memory into the recesses of his mind, saving it for those nights when he was alone and dared to miss Quentin, filed away as a reminder of why he didn’t deserve him.

Eliot swallows thickly, his tongue feeling too heavy for his mouth. “I’d better finish getting ready before...”

Quentin just stared at him as he trailed off. “Right, sorry, I shouldn’t have—“ He’d tensed up, shoulders hunching and hands fiddling with his shirt “—imposed like that.”

Eliot couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. “You’re never an imposition.”

Quentin gaped at him, mouth hanging open and snapping shut a few times before he turned toward the door.

Eliot followed behind like a shadow, stopping in the threshold as Quentin continued. He closed the door slowly, so tempted to reach out, to tell Quentin how wrong he was, how much he really missed him.

“Wait, El, I—“

Quentin’s hand stopped the door before it could shut all the way and Eliot’s breath caught in his throat.

Quentin looked at him with those bright, hopeful eyes and Eliot didn’t know how in the world he’d turned him down. How he’d sat so close to someone he’d loved so dearly and rejected him. 

“Stay.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think twice.

Quentin just stared at him with that trademark kicked puppy look.

“Stay here. In Fillory. With me.”

Quentin’s brow furrowed. “What are you—“

“I’m saying—“ Eliot closed the distance between them, pressing a gentle hand to Quentin’s cheek. “I don’t want to let you go again.”

Quentin’s eyes fluttered as he leaned into Eliot’s touch. “You know how I feel, what I...what I want from this.” He sucked in a sharp breath, meeting Eliot with a determined gaze. “From you.”

“I know, and I was a fucking idiot for turning you down.”

Quentin ran his hand along the edge of his shirt. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to...to love me...just because you did in another life.”

“I was scared.” Eliot spoke matter-of-factly, too caught up in his confession to let fear deter him this time. “I was terrified because I love you and I didn’t think I could handle if you broke my heart.”

Eliot lifted his other hand up to mirror the one already cupping Quentin’s cheek. Then Eliot leaned in, pouring everything he’d ever wanted to say to Quentin into a single kiss.

They’d kissed a million times before, at least. That was a different life though, a hazy remembrance of a time that both existed and didn’t. This kiss was clear, like the parting of clouds to reveal a sunny day.

When he pulled back, Quentin was staring at him with lips slightly parted and eyes searching Eliot’s face.

“When this is over,” Eliot started, “When Margo is crowned and we officially get magic back, I wanna give it a shot. Give _us_ a shot.”

Quentin continued to stare up at him, gripping the front of Eliot’s shirt like a vice. He was probably wrinkling the delicate fabric of the coat, but Eliot couldn’t bring himself to care. It was Q, after all.

“Why wait ‘til after the coronation?” Quentin quirked a smile, relaxing his hold and tugging Eliot closer until they were pressed together.

Eliot laughed, unrestrained and so out-of-character for him that he was almost startled. 

“I’d like that."

Quentin pecked his lips. “I love you.”

Eliot hummed. “Yeah, I think I would love me right now too.”

Quentin swatted him. And then he kissed him. And then there wasn’t much talking after that.

They’d made it to Margo’s coronation with only minutes to spare, a little more disheveled than they’d been before, but Eliot was beaming the whole time.

**Author's Note:**

> my magicians tumblr is [lovelyquentin](https://lovelyquentin.tumblr.com/) if you wanna hmu and scream about queliot.
> 
> kudos are appreciated and comments are used as magical fuel for whatever the fuck i write next.


End file.
